Holding On
by nikerek
Summary: Anders got what he wanted. The Chantry is in pieces, but so his lover's heart. With Anders presumed dead, the now stoic Garrett Hawke fills his life with quests for Kirkwall to cope.


Hawke's stomach knotted as bright red lights emanated from the Chantry. A gust of wind blew back his hair as the Chantry's mortar split apart. _Anders_. He was angry at himself for not seeing the signs. He rushed to the building, hoping to get Anders out before the inevitable, but from the steps of the Chantry, the hot explosion threw him several yards away and to his feet.

The ringing in his ears was soon replaced by deafening screams as the Chantry's crumbled pieces littered the ground. Hawke picked himself up off the ground and searched the crowd of scared and injured witnesses.

His eyes were wide with worry now, a sinking feeling tried to slow him down. He pushed through the noise and ran to the center of the rubble. He hadn't realized he'd been yelling Anders' name as he dug through the debris.

Tears fell down his dust covered cheeks at the gleam of Anders' staff beneath the brick. He couldn't bear to see the rest. On his hands and knees he wept over the buried remains. Hawke took comfort at Varric's hand on his shoulder. Varric always knew what words to say, and even better, what words not to say. He stood by his friend in silence, until Hawke raised his hand. Varric helped him to his feet and walked in silence to Hawke's estate.

Hawke buried himself in quests over the next few months. Aveline had tried getting him to take time to grieve, but couldn't give him a firm no when he asked for more work. Exhausted, his friends began scattering to the wind. Fenris, Isabela and Varric did their best to remain by his side, but he felt their pull.

Hawke sat near the camp's fire of their latest mission. The banter of his companions droned on in the background as the bright flames brought back visions of the chantry. He closed his eyes, replaying the events in his mind. He tried to remind himself that Anders was gone, that it was time to let go, but he held on anyway.

The soft touch of a familiar hand slipped across his thigh. "There are better ways to grieve." Isabela whispered. Fenris' eyes widened at the display as she looked to him with a toothy grin. "You know, I'm positive Fenris and I could take your mind off of things."

Hawke sighed and moved away from Isabela. She shrugged and rolled her eyes as he walked toward the edge of camp, leaving his companions in silence.

Varric sidled next to him with a bowl of halla stew. "You need to eat."

"I need to be left alone."

"Pushing us away isn't going to help. He wouldn't want that."

"We obviously didn't know him well enough to say what he would want."

Varric hung his head and walked away. He didn't have the energy to fight with Hawke tonight.

Hawke wandered into the woodline, drowning in the sounds of the night. As he walked in the fading light, the crack of heavy brush halted him.

"He's right, you know." The familiar voice came from the shadows behind him.

Hawke spun on his heels, his stomach taut. Anders stood before him, haloed by the distant light of camp.

"I wouldn't want you to push away our friends."

"Anders?" Hawke's eyes were wide, worried his sadness had begun toying with him.

"Haw-" Hawke closed the distance quickly, stifling his own name on Anders' cool lips.

He kissed Anders furiously, his hands pulling at the strawberry locks he'd missed so much. "I thought you were dead." Hawke kissed him again until his lungs ran out of air. "They told me you were dead," he spoke through gasps.

"Hawke," Anders tried to pull away to explain, but Hawke's fingers weaved in his hair to keep him close. Anders spoke against his lips, "I'm sorry, but I-"

"You can explain later. Right now, I need you." Hawke towered over Anders, his blue eyes gleamed with desire. His rough hands squeezed Anders' sides as he backed him against a nearby tree. Hawke kissed him with a sudden ferocity, his hands tearing at the straps of Anders' mage robes. The sound of fabric ripping filled the silence between kisses.

Anders' breath was heavy as Hawke bit his collarbone and neck, his rough beard grazing Anders' soft skin. The cold steel and leather of Hawke's armor dug into his exposed chest. He closed his eyes and held onto Hawke's shoulders. He needed this, too, the physical connection with the only person he's ever loved. His hands reached into Hawke's unruly hair and tugged lightly while pressing his pelvis against Hawke.

Hawke groaned against Anders' neck. He turned Anders around and pushed his chest against the tree. Anders held onto the rough bark as he felt Hawke lift his mage robes. Goosebumps spread along his lower back as the night air chilled his skin. Hawke's hands felt like fire as he palmed Anders' sides. Hawke's hands trailed below the waistline of Ander's trousers, his fingertips gliding over his hipbones. The laces of Anders' trousers loosened as Hawke's hands wandered beneath them. Hawke took advantage of the give and let Anders' pants slip to his thighs.

Hawke released his erection and held himself against Anders; his arms wrapped around his mage lover. He kissed the nape of Anders' neck while his hands explored his delicate skin. His teeth nipped at Anders' ear.

"I need you." Anders whispered, pushing against Hawke, his body begging to be entered.

Hawke twitched at Anders' words and rushed to pull a bottle of stamina from his belt and uncorked it with his teeth. He spilled the contents on his erection and Anders' backside. Hawke bit his lip as he inched into Anders. He moved slowly inside Anders, allowing the potion to spread between them.

Anders grunted against the tree as Hawke pushed deeper, each stroke becoming increasingly long and fast forcing Anders to feel every inch. Hawke held onto Anders' bony hips, fingertips sure to leave small bruises.

He grabbed a fistful of Anders' hair and forced him to look over his shoulder so he could place his lips on his. Their kiss was primal: teeth clanged as Hawke's rough tongue moved around his. Anders moaned into Hawke's mouth.

On the cusp of orgasm, Hawke released Anders' mouth and grunted into the back of his neck. He sunk his teeth into Anders' shoulders, his hands grabbing at his hips. Hawke's body shuddered as he came inside him.

"Maker," Anders whispered, his own erection throbbing as Hawke spun him back around. Hakwe dropped to his knees, his mouth suddenly around Anders. His lips moved as quickly as his hips had.

Eyes closed, Anders put his head back against the tree and moaned softly into the night air, biting his lip to keep from being any louder. His fingers tangled themselves in Hawke's dark hair and in a moment of pure bliss he came into Hawke's mouth.

Hawke wiped his lips with his thumb and stood, his face more relaxed than when Anders had appeared. He pulled up Anders' pants for him before fixing his own and then stood against him. He pulled Anders into an embrace and kissed his forehead. "You're not allowed to leave again." His voice was soft.

Anders relaxed against him, his arms around his waist. He blushed as he always did when Hawke was gentle with him. "I don't think you'll have to worry about that. It's not like I can stay away from you."

It would be too soon before Anders was back with the crew where any time alone was nearly impossible to obtain. So they held onto each other tight, silent as the cold night for as long as they could.


End file.
